


Six for Six

by shortystylee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arya/Asha broTP, F/M, non-sexual use of the term 'snatch', the weightlifting au that nobody wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortystylee/pseuds/shortystylee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya was just a few months out from the most important weightlifting meet of her life, the chance to make the Westerosi national team, and prove to everyone that her family's legacy didn't end with her father... she's right on track until her coach announces he's leaving for Braavos and she finds out her "rival" is taking his place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, Stark,” he called out, walking up to where she stood leaning against the wall. At first it just looked like she was leaning awkwardly against the cinder block wall, face grimacing for no reason, but when he got closer he could see she was using a lacrosse ball to roll out her left shoulder. She had finished watching the rest of her session compete, and afterwards he followed her around to the other side of tall black curtain dividing the competition area from the warm-up area. She’d shrugged out of the shoulders of her grey competition singlet and the straps hung around her thighs, leaving her only in her sports bra from the waist up. It was all he could do to not stare. “Good job on your snatches earlier. Was that last one a competition PR?”

 

“Yep. Regular PR too,” she replied, still mostly focused on her shoulder. “87 kilos.”

 

“Holy crap, that’s awesome.” She smiled just a bit at that, and Gendry felt better knowing she was at least listening to him. “I’m hoping to PR today too but I’m not sure it’ll happen.” He was fishing compliments and he knew it.

 

“Well, I’d say good luck, but since you’re my rival and all…”

 

“I’m your _what_?”

 

“You’re my rival.”

 

“There’s no way I’m your rival.”

 

“How come?” she asked. He wasn’t sure if she was actually offended at his assertion or not.

 

 _Is she joking right now?_ “I’m a guy, for starters, and I compete in a weight class that’s like, 30 kilos above yours.”

 

“You keep tellin’ yourself that, Waters,” she replied. She stood up from the wall, tossing and catching the lacrosse ball back and forth between her hands a couple of times, and then looked up at the large digital clock on the wall. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve gotta get in my warm up before the clean and jerks start.”

 

She watched him later on that day, after lunch when the men competed. She’d lost it on her last jerk, a 110 kilo attempt that ended with her not quite getting under the bar quick enough. _Thank the gods for my shoulder mobility_. It was a lift she’d made before, but something felt off today. _Nothing ‘off’ today for Gendry though_ , she thought. _Six for six_. Clean and jerk PR, five kilos heavier on his snatch than at last month’s meet. He was good, she knew that. She’d seen him at almost every meet since she moved from lifting as a Junior to a Senior. He recovered well, had impeccable form, never pulled too soon, and got under the bar so quickly you could blink and miss it. Friendly, too. Every time they ran into each other he would come over and chat with Arya – compliment her lifts that day, ask about her training, and almost always try to steal some snacks from her backpack. Today, he even had a group from his gym there loudly cheering for him after each successful lift, not too surprising since this meet was just outside of Storms End, where she knew he trained. Much different than her when she watched him: sweatpants on, sitting on the ground eating peanut butter directly out of the jar with a soup spoon, muttering whispers of “come on, come on” and “weight in your heels, elbows up, you’ve got this” under her breath so no one could hear her rooting for him.

 

He was good, and she could be better. _We’re definitely rivals, whether he likes it or not._

 

**XxXxX**

**Two weeks later.**

 

Once Arya returned home to Winterfell from the competition in Storms End, she had a day or two off and then it was straight back into training mode. It was only three months until her next competition, one which would contain what might become the most important six lifts of her life up until that point. _Maybe forever_ , she thought for a moment, and then shook her head to get those thoughts out, trying not to psych herself out. This meet would determine who would make it to the Westerosi National Team for the next world-wide competition the following summer.

 

Her father owned the facility she trained at, Stark Strength & Conditioning, which was referred to simply as SSC by almost all the members and the town locals. Ned Stark had made a name for himself in the weightlifting world when he was younger, and so had his father before him. Her oldest brother Robb had played the part of the golden child for a while, when she was too young to compete and he was in the juniors division, with magazines and reports planting the notion that Robb Stark would be the next to carry on his family’s legacy… until the car crash and the back injury and the beautiful nurse, and then suddenly it wasn’t worth it anymore. Jon’s interest in the sport didn’t go farther than just using training as part of an exercise regimen, and Sansa… well, that was definitely not happening.

 

_Not much pressure at all, right?_

 

She was working along with a mobility webcast that morning, trying to get that in before the coach showed up at eight. She’d worked with Syrio Forel for the past year or so, and he was nothing if not prompt each and every morning they had scheduled.

 

This morning he arrived at the same time as always, like clockwork, but, instead of writing out extra training notes for the day or other changes on the whiteboard, he called out to the rest of the athletes to meet him in the so-called lounge area, really just where they kept the boxes for box jumps.

 

“Alright,” he began, clapping his hands together to make sure he had everyone’s attention, “before we start our day, I have an announcement to make. I was approached a number of weeks ago by the management for the Braavosi national team. They’re beginning their training for the world games and would like a trainer from Braavos. I’ve already spoken with Mr. Stark and he has accepted my decision to move on. Now, there’s no way I would leave you without a coach so close to Nationals, especially with some of you on track to make the team this year. I have hand-selected a new coach, who starting Friday morning, personally recommended by a close friend and –“

 

That was all Arya bothered to hear. She stood up from the box she was sitting on and stomped off, knowing full well that she shouldn’t have acted like that, running out like a child, and knowing that she’d get a talking-to from Syrio later that day and probably from her father once he heard about her reaction. But thinking before acting was still a trait that she’d yet to perfect, so she tried to control her emotions until she was out of the main room, letting out a loud noise in frustration once the door closed behind her.

 

“A girl is not pleased with the way things go.”

 

 _Really, Jaqen? Now is not the time_. She turned around to see her friend at the water cooler on the other side of the room, red-striped hair pushed back with a wide black headband, shirtless with a pair of Lululemon yoga pants on that were so tight Arya thanked the gods that there were no kids’ classes held this early in the morning. _Nothing I’ve never seen before though_ , she thought to herself, trying to hide the smirk that threatened to emerge on her face.

 

“A girl will chuck a kettlebell at your head when you’re not looking if you don’t stop bothering me,” she replied. “Also, try talking normally. I know you know how.”

 

He smiled and suddenly changed his tone, almost like he hadn’t realized he was speaking with weird grammar or an accent. “Sorry, I just got done with another early AM Lorathi yoga session. You know how it gets, everything is “a man this, a woman that.’ Come on, let’s go get you calmed down.”

 

She nodded and started to walk further to the back of the gym, Jaqen following just behind, his footfalls quiet where hers are loudly stomping, even without really trying. She sat down on a long bench, leaning back against the wall and he joined her, silently sitting next to her so their shoulders are just touching, then took a hold of her right hand. Arya knew there was nothing _more_ behind the action, at least, not when he’s doing it in a comforting way like he was now, and didn’t bother to rebuff him. She would if it had been anyone else.

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, though he doesn’t answer. “You’re thinking that I’m 22 godsdamned years old and I just stomped out of there like a five year old that just learned the tooth fairy isn’t real.”

 

He didn’t say a thing, but Arya knew he was listening; this was just how they did things. He somehow managed to calm her down when she got upset. She’d complain, he’d listen, and when she was done she felt clear-headed, more than ready to go back out there and face whatever it was that had bothered her in the first place. She sat with him for a few moments, five minutes maybe, and he remained quiet, letting her vent the way she needed to.

 

He only spoke when he heard some weights dropping and movement beginning again in the gym. “Feeling better?” She nodded. “You’d better get back out there then. You’ll really be in it if you miss practice.”

 

“Yea, I know.” She got up and grabbed her notebook, lifting shoes, belt, and knee sleeves out of her cubby.

 

“Hey, Arya?” Jaqen started. He’d stood up, calling out to her when she was almost out the door. “You can make it to the Nationals team, no matter who’s coaching you. Remember that.”

 

“Thanks, Jaqen,” she said, holding up the door with her backside since her arms will full. “We still on for dinner tonight?”

 

“Of course. Now get out there and show Syrio who doesn’t need him to make it big.”

 

Syrio gave her a disapproving look when she emerged from the back room, as she crossed the gym to look at the whiteboards and make some notes in her journal. For her, there were snatches today, pulls and balances, a complex of power snatches and hang snatches, then front squats and some extra accessory work. Normally, Arya split her day between heavy lifting in the morning and accessory work in the late afternoon, usually working a shift at Indigo Star Coffee & Tea in the middle, mainly to occupy herself with something else and get her out of the gym for a few hours a day. Still a little bit upset, she ignored Syrio’s looks as she put in her wireless headphones, turning up the music on her phone and then setting it on the window ledge. _Ya know, Jaqen is right_ , she thought. _All the groundwork is laid for this already. I’ve got my sights set pretty high, and this should too if he knows what’s good for him… whoever he is._


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch2**

**Three months out from National Team Trials**

 

Training went well for Arya that day, despite the news from Syrio, and even maybe because of it. _It does always feel great to be able to throw these weights around for a while and get out some of that excess emotion_. Her shift at Indigo was just as easy as it usually is. It was an easy job that got her out of the gym and her mind off of her training for a few hours a day, and even though it only paid just above minimum wage, there was a surprising market for noontime coffee in downtown Winterfell, so the tips added up quickly. Hot Pie, her friend she’d known since at least elementary school, but really as long as she could remember, was the assistant manager, and had been partially responsible for helping persuade the owner that they did in fact need an extra barista during the lunch shift.

 

She got a text from Jaqen halfway through work, just after the last of the lunch crowd. It was like clockwork by now. He’d want to hash out their dinner details, sending a barrage of texts letting her know who all was planning on coming to dinner that particular week. Monday night dinners had started out small, but caught on quick once everyone else found out about it. What began as just Arya, Jaqen, and a friend or two grilling up a couple burgers and watching YouTube videos on the projector at the gym after all the classes were done, since Arya did have a key and all, had morphed into a weekly party.  Even in the coldness of a Winterfell February evening, Jon was still outside, manning the grill with Ygritte leaning up against the concrete wall, the big furry hood of her coat dwarfing her face.

 

Arya startled slightly when she felt someone sit down next to her at dinner. By that time, almost everyone had heard about her walk-out that morning, and it seemed like they were all a little standoff-ish, trying to give her time to cool down. She looked to her right and saw Asha Greyjoy next to her. Arya remembered when she’d first moved up north from Pyke about two years ago, all brash attitude and an odd amount of swagger, raw strength to her lifts but lacking the finesse and fine-tuning she’d need if she was really serious about making it to the next level. They’d become fast friends, especially when Asha’s search for a roommate turned into Arya moving out of her parents’ house and into her unused second bedroom. She was proud of how much Asha had refined her skills since moving to Winterfell to join SSC and get coached by Syrio, but at the same time, Arya was also very glad that her friend was two weight classes above her, so there was no way they’d be vying for the same awards or placements.

 

“Hey, Ar,” she started, and then pulled over a small plyometrics box to set her plate of food on. “Sorry about the bad news today. I totally get that he’s Braavosi and all, has to rep for his country, but it’s pretty shit timing… It’s gonna take some getting used to for me too, hells, he was my first real coach ya know? Before that it was just me fucking around in my garage back on Pyke… but you’ve been training with Syrio longer than any of the rest of us here.”

 

“Yea, it totally blows... Least I’ve still got everything he’s taught me stuck up here,” Arya replied, tapping on the side of her head.

 

“Right? That’s _exactly_ what I was trying to tell Dayne earlier, when he picked me up from my massage appointment this morning, but that boy’s like talking to a bloody wall sometimes.” She paused, taking a drink from the liter of water she always carried, then offered it over to Arya. “I mean, besides, we’ll all have a new coach come Friday and all, and I’m sure he’s—”

 

“Friday?” she interrupted, trying not to choke on the large drink of water she’d just taken. “The new guy is starting… Friday? As in, four days from now.”

 

“Well, yea. Syrio’s flight out is Saturday morning. The Braavosi team wanted him to start right away apparently. Dayne told me that was part of the announcement when he picked me up. You didn’t know?”

 

Arya groaned, leaning her head back against the wall. “No, what you might not have heard that I didn’t exactly sit through all of Syrio’s announcement this morning… and then I might’ve ignored him while I was lifting. Shit, Asha, why does this all have to change so soon?”

 

“If it didn’t happen now you’d be even worse off if they changed later on. It’s only three months out ‘til the team trials.” She shrugged her shoulders, mumbling at Asha that she _guessed_ she was right after all. “Besides, you’ve been doing awesome this year, and I’m sure that Syrio has picked a new coach that’s up to his own ridiculously high standards. Now, come on, finish that burger and then we’re gonna sneak off to the backroom, get us some of those brownies that Ygritte made.”

 

“But Sansa will kill me, literally kill me if I fuck up my macros,” she explained, then took another forkful of the burger she’d cut up. “She runs one helluva tight ship and you know that.”

 

“Tell me, Ar, you seen Sansa ‘round here this evening?”

 

“Actually, no…” Arya answered, looking around to take stock of who had joined that evening. A devilish smile grew on her face as her sister was nowhere to be found. She grabbed her paper plate and stood up from her spot quickly, then looked down at Asha and held out her hand. “Screw that, we’re getting those brownies now. You know just how to cheer me up.”

 

XxXxX

 

The weekdays seemed to always blend into each other with the way her schedule was set up. There were some lighter days mixed in amongst the heavier ones, but not much, especially not since she started a building up cycle that would last up to the week before Nationals, allowing her a week to de-load and then peak at the competition… _well, unless this new coach totally fucks with all my training_ , she realized on Wednesday morning. Wednesdays were usually a lighter day for her, still heading to the gym at the same time in the morning, but there was no lifting programmed for her. She started with her mobility webcast, the same as she did every morning, and then would alternate between some cardio on the rower and the core exercises that Syrio changed on the “extra credit” board each day.

 

Thursday passed quickly, but that was usually the case. Jerks from the boxes, front squats, and push presses consumed her morning lifting session, followed by a shift at Indigo and then afterwards catching a late lunch with Margaery. Although they’d gotten off to a weird start, with Arya not totally feeling the flower-child vibe of her sister’s girlfriend, they quickly became close friends and weekly lunch companions once Margaery let her secret snarky side slip out at a Stark family dinner one day, and even more so when it got out that she was also into women’s boxing just as much as Arya was, though maybe not for entirely the same reasons.

 

The gym-wide meeting was held that Friday evening at seven, purposely giving enough time for the morning people to get there after work and the five-thirty pm CrossFit class to finish up and clean up the room. Her father was there, making a number of announcements that would normally have been sent out via email, but she knew he loved it whenever he would get the opportunity to just talk to the full group of members like this. It didn’t happen often, maybe only twice a year, the Winter Solstice party and then the Unification Day party each summer. He stood in front of the group, still a commanding figure even in his late 50s, wearing a SSC long-sleeve shirt and faded jeans.

 

“…on top of that, I think everyone will be pleased to hear that we’ve got a couple of orders for some more equipment scheduled to show up next week. It’s looking to be a rather large delivery, and I’d like to get some volunteers to help put everything away and help with some assembly, especially since we’re getting three new sets of kilo plates and new racks for the back room. There’s also new wrist wraps and speed jump ropes,” Ned continued, then paused, smiling when he heard the claps and whistles from a few of the athletes. “Yes, I think are all happy about _that_ …”

 

He continued on a few more minutes, Arya not listening terribly close since the majority of what her father was announcing was already news he’d told her, since he had a habit of letting most of his ideas for the gym bounce off her first, or was information that she was not very interested in. The new coach _still_ hadn’t shown up yet, but the murmurs she’d heard so far was that he was flying up that same day and Syrio was out to pick him up at the airport, but no one was exactly sure where he was flying in from. She’d questioned Syrio about it earlier in the week, she couldn’t remember which day it was now, but she knew the answer she was going to get from him before she even asked. _No, Arya, I won’t tell you my choice. You will need to trust me when I say that I have your best interests in mind._

 

She was leaned over, slumped on Asha next to her, bored now, and trying not to look too antsy. Her dad was still talking, explaining about the nutritional programming that Sansa was in charge of, the extra costs for anyone interested, and how she is able to tailor the programming so that it would help them to meet their specific goals.

 

Arya made a loud, surprised noise when the door creaked open, first noticing Syrio come partially inside, holding the door open at the same time as he stomped snow off his boots.

 

“Oh, here they are now,” Ned stated. “Get lost on the way back from the airport, Syrio?”

 

Her head whipped off Asha’s shoulder, faster than she knew she could move, and she thought she heard Syrio give some complaint about airport traffic, but her full attention was now being aimed at the front door, first going to where Syrio was still loudly kicking the snow clumps off his boots. Her eyes moved over to the new coach who walked in behind him, much taller than Syrio, dressed in a large puffy winter jacket with a furry hood that was still over his face. When he finally reached up, pushed the hood back and then unzipped the coat, she noticed familiar eyes, dark hair that was bit too long, and she thought that he’s an uncanny reminder of someone she knew… until she shifted her eyes down slightly and her mind finally kicked into gear, taking full note of the large text that was screen-printed across the front of his hoodie.

 

_Storms End Barbell Club._

 

It only took him getting three steps closer for it finally cement in her that she knew him, knew _exactly_ who this was, but then her father was already introducing him to everyone.

 

 _No, no, no. Shit_ , she thought. _It can’t be him… he’s only a few years older than me. Is he even a coach?_

 

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce our new weightlifting coach, Gendry Waters.”

 

 _Guess so_.

 

She didn’t think he’d seen her yet, thankfully. His eyes busily scanned his new surroundings, going over to the rack of barbells that hung off the far wall, flicking across to the large whiteboard of gym PRs, and then to the line of rowers, before finally settling on the group of athletes setting on the ground, then narrowing in on Arya. He had a cheeky smile on his face as he watched her while Ned finished up the introductions, then let everyone know about the food in the backroom that Catelyn had made.

 

 _He knew about this_ , she realized. _I just saw him two weeks ago at that Storms End meet, and he knew this was going to happen. That’s why he’s got this shit-eating grin on his face._

 

He’d said nothing at all to her at the meet in Storms End, nothing about this at least. Sure, she wasn’t best friends with him, her rival, but she’d think he’d mention something as big as this. She tried to think back to two weeks ago and what they’d even talked about.

 

_“Hey, Stark… good job on your snatches earlier.”_

_“Holy crap, that’s awesome… I’m hoping to PR today too but I’m not sure it’ll happen.”_

_“Well, I’d say good luck, but since you’re my rival and all…”_

_“Gendry, what are you doing? Stop stealing protein bars from my backpack, you ass! My mom made those.”_

_“Seriously? You’re so lucky. I’d love the chance to have these every single day.”_

 

She had to stop herself from smiling at the last memory, since he’d probably think she was smiling at him.

 

She thought he would’ve walked straight up to her after her father was done talking, especially with how he’d kept his eyes on her the whole time, but as she stood up and prepared herself for a conversation she really didn’t want to have, she noticed he was being overwhelmed by a large group. Though her father was speaking to one of the CrossFit coaches, Syrio was still there, along with Jaqen, a couple other lifters, and a small gaggle of girls who she figured thought he was attractive.

 

A moment later, Asha walked up, yawning widely, and asked if Arya also wanted to head home for some real dinner. She agreed enthusiastically, _thank the gods for Asha Greyjoy_ , but as they walked towards the backroom to grab their bags and sneak out the back door to where her car was parked, Arya felt his eyes on her as she left. _I’ll deal with this mess in the morning._


	3. Chapter 3

**Three months out from National Team Trials**

She came home after the small gathering at the gym to find a new postal box full of fan mail sitting on the kitchen table. The entirety of it would’ve been mailed directly to the gym, since it’s rather simple to look her up on the internet and get the SSC address, and the website for SSC definitely has a big page on her and all her accomplishments, thanks to Bran’s upkeep of it. Asha usually came back from training just before lunchtime, and said she’d brought it back with her. _I’ll deal with that mess tomorrow too_.

 

Arya slept well that night, despite the news about Gendry. _My new coach_ , she reminds herself. Fridays were usually a heavier day, percentage-wise, and with all the excitement happening in the gym she was glad she had been tired out enough to actually sleep.

 

Her alarm on her cell phone went off at 6:30am, her normal wake-up time even for Saturday morning. It’d give her just enough time to wake up a little bit, make whatever breakfast she was going to have, thankfully already planned out by Sansa, and then brew her coffee and pack her gym bag. There was zero point in taking a shower to help her wake up, since by noon she knew she’d smell like Shaggydog did that one time he got locked outside in a rainstorm. After breakfast, she carried the corrugated plastic postal box back to her bedroom, dropping it on the floor with a loud thud. She sat down beside it and leaned back against the bookcase, groaning loudly when she looked across her room and saw the stack of six or seven postal boxes that she still hadn’t returned to the post office yet. _Seven Hells, when did it get like this_? She turned around and let her eyes roam over the various books and magazines on the bookshelf until she spied the one she was looking for, the August 2013 issue of Sports Illustrated Westeros.

 

“It’s all _your_ fault,” she said aloud to the magazine while she thumbed through its pages to find the article she knew was in there.

 

_In the course of six quick lifts, a new athlete has turned the Westerosi weightlifting world upside down. Toppling the reigning Juniors queen, Lyanna Mormont, another Northerner has not only dethroned the champ, but is on her way to bringing royal status back to her family name._

_Arya Stark has shown that she’s here to stay, and her sights are set much higher than just Junior Nationals._

_Yes, you read that right. Stark._

 

_Barely grazing five-foot-one inches, upon meeting her she doesn’t seem very intimidating, but the daughter of the legendary Ned Stark had all eyes on her when she dominated the 58kg weight class last month in Kings Landing. We were able to catch up to her in the lobby, as she signed autographs for a crowd of young new fans._

_“It’s a_ [censored] _trip, really,” she commented when we were able to talk with her after the awards ceremony. She can’t stop fiddling with the gold medal that hangs heavy around her neck, almost like she can’t believe this is all reality. “I’d only been competing locally until this year, so this is more than I could ever have dreamed.”_

_When asked what her goals are next? The nineteen year-old powerhouse has some lofty aspirations._

_“The Westerosi National Team. World’s. All of it.” There’s a huge smile plastered across her face and she takes a moment to brush her hair out of her eyes._

 

She smiled to herself when she thought about the short interview. It had been the first time she’d ever been interviewed for anything that mattered, the only other experiences being the few times that the Winterfell Tribune wrote up an article about a competition. Arya could vividly remember the young man interviewing her, telling her that she’d have to stop it all the swearing because he wouldn’t be able to publish it. _I laughed at him and told him he’d find a way to fucking censor it, since I’m pretty shit on controlling what comes out of my mouth_.

 

Asha called for her from the other side of the door, meaning it was time to drive to gym.

 

Gendry was the first thing she noticed when they walked in the door. Not the horde of people from the early CrossFit class heading out on their warm-up run since the sidewalks had been shoveled overnight, not the fresh batch of Catelyn’s homemade granola bars on a tray next to the front door, not her brother Rickon and his ‘not my girlfriend’ Shireen sitting up in the rafters watching something on her iPad, both of whom must’ve climbed up one of the climbing ropes to get there. It’s not been _one day_ since he’s been there and he’s already wearing a SSC hoodie, walking around the building next to her father, apparently getting the grand tour.

 

She didn’t realize she was standing in the middle of the room until Asha walked up, grabbing her arm and pulling her over to the platforms. _Whatever_ , she thought. _I’ve got work to do_.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Stark,” he said, trying to get her attention. She’s resting between lifts, sitting on top of the rack of weight next to her platform, and tapping out something on her phone. “I looked for you last night at the introduction.”

 

He had finally gotten done with the tour of the facilities that Ned gave him, and honestly he’d had zero clue that it would take so long. The barbell club he belonged to in Storms End was just that, solely a barbell club. It’d started in his friend’s garage and humbly moved itself into an industrial space, which was for all intents and purposes, a glorified garage. _This place has everything_ , he thought, _I’m surprised I’m not living here too._

 

“Oh, hey there,” she said, looking up from her phone before locking the screen and sitting it on the top of two wide 25 kilo plates. “Yea, Asha and I headed back pretty quick after your introduction. Fridays are usually a long day for the both of us.”

 

 _Or maybe you were trying to avoid me_ , he thought, but didn’t press the issue. He’s not dumb, he knows that for all his efforts to break Arya out of her shell, she still seems to have something against him, and he can’t figure out why. _Gods, remind me again why I took this coaching position?_

 

XxXxX

**Two weeks prior…**

 

“Gendry!” He heard someone yell from behind him, a voice he knew from somewhere but didn’t quite recognize. He turned to see Syrio Forel half-jogging up to him, completely decked out in Stark gear.

 

“Mr. Forel, good to see you,” Gendry said, reaching out to shake his hand. This man is a legend, and Gendry has to remind himself not to get star struck each time he talks to him. “How’ve you been since the Highgarden meet?”

 

That was two months ago now, the last meet he’d had. He’d taken second place in his weight class and so had Arya. In the end, it wasn’t really going to matter how you placed at these meets, as long as you had a high enough total to make it to the National Team Trials.

 

“I’m fine, always am,” Syrio replied. He put his arm around Gendry’s shoulders and led him off to a part of the stands that was empty. Gendry sat his duffel bag down on the row in front of him as they both took a seat. “Did you have time to think about what I proposed in my email?”

 

“I did.”

 

“And?”

 

“Are you sure I’m right for this? That she’s right for me to coach?” Gendry was certain that he’s looking at Syrio like he’s out of his mind.

 

“Son, I’ve watched you since you first emerged on the scene years ago, and while your technique is different than mine, I think it’s a high time my little Arry finally got booted out of her comfort zone.” He paused, and only when he let out a tired sigh was it obvious how old he was. “Both Ned and I agree that she’s been sitting there comfortable for too long now.”

 

“Do you _really_ think she can make it?”

 

“That’s the only thing in this world that I’m certain of,” he answered quickly, without stopping to think, and Gendry instantly believes him… plus that is coupled with the way he’s seen her lift in person. “And with me gone in Braavos, she’s going to need to have a good coach, because I’m sure as hell not going to go easy on those Braavosi lifters.” He smiled when he said that, and it put Gendry at ease a little.

 

He doesn’t even need to think about it for a split second more. All of a sudden, he’s got images flying through his head  – PRs at National Team Trials, her on the podium, Westerosi Sports Network interviews leading up the Worlds competition, the sports magazine snapping pictures of the both of them.

 

“Alright, Mr. Forel. You’ve got yourself a replacement.” Gendry stood up and shook Syrio’s hand again, sealing their deal, and his eyes go wide at the next question.

 

“Good. Can you start in two weeks?”

 

XxXxX

 

“Well, I’m glad I caught up with you now. Your dad said that Syrio’s training schedules started Monday and went through Saturday?” She nodded. He sat down on the platform, stretching his legs out until they touched the one next to it. “Good, good. We can get started on Monday then. It’ll work out great.”

 

She immediately grabbed her notebook, flipping to next week’s pages and holding it out to him. “I’ve still got programming from Syrio that goes out for two more weeks though. I can’t just stop that, not right in the middle of a cycle. He puts a lot of work into the programming and—“

 

“As do I, Arya. I’ve actually been discussing your programming with Syrio for a few weeks, and he thinks there’s no problem with me starting your new program Monday.”

 

She’s absolutely speechless right now, although he can see the tension in her eyes, and perhaps even a hint of anger aimed at him.

 

She surprised him with her answer. “Well, if you cleared it with Syrio,” she said with a shrug, then reached up to fix her headband that had fallen too far back on her head. She tapped the FitBit on her right wrist a few times, then scowled. “Ugh, fuck me. I need to take my next lift.”

 

_This seems to be going way too easily._

 

“Don’t let me hold you up.” He stood up from the platform and turned to go, then remembered what else he needed. “I will need you to send me an email by this evening with a list of your current one rep maxes. I saw the board across the room but I’d rather get what your current maxes are, just in case they’re different.”

 

“Anything else?” she asked. He watched as she picked up a piece of chalk and started to methodically spread it across her palms, paying extra attention to the crease where her thumb joined her index finger.

 

“Not unless you’d like to meet up tomorrow to go over the program.” He secretly wanted her to agree to this. “Just in case you’ve got any questions.” It’s admittedly not the best timing right now, trying to talk to her between her clean complexes.

 

“I’ve got plans with Sansa tomorrow, so probably not.” She put the brick of chalk back down into its container, shaking a little bit of excess off her hands. “I’ll be here bright and early Monday morning though.”

 

He let her know that’s fine, that he’s got a lot of work to do getting settled into his new apartment anyways, and that he’ll see her Monday. He watched her do her next clean complex before walking away from the platforms, thinking first about how she needs to adjust where she’s holding her weight for her hang cleans, being much too far forward on her feet, _we’ll make sure to talk about that on Monday_ , and then he can’t help but wonder why she’s being so much nicer to him than she’s ever been, making him wonder if there’s some big joke he doesn’t know about yet.

 

* * *

 

**Monday, February 15 th; 11 weeks out from National Team Trials**

 

She received the new programming from Gendry around dinner time on Sunday evening, just as she’d expected. What she hadn’t thought was that it was going to be so… _different_. She passed the copy she’d printed over to Asha during breakfast, hoping for someone to commiserate with – after all, he was going to re-do _her_ programming too – but it only served to annoy her more when her friend was oddly okay with all of it.

 

It wasn’t until they were in Asha’s car on the drive to SSC that Arya brought up her plan to just keep doing Syrio’s programming instead of changing to Gendry’s.

 

“Arry, ya know I’m usually on your side for everything,” Asha started, turning down the music on the radio, “And I’m saying this because I love you, even though you’re a little shit some days... but I really don’t think you should do this. If his programming is good then staying with Syrio’s might affect your chances of making the team.”

 

_Since when did my partner-in-crime become the voice of reason?_

 

“I know that… it’s just…” she paused, stopped working on braiding her hair and angrily threw it up into a messy ponytail before she continued. “I don’t know where he gets off coming in here and changing up everything, like he fucking owns this place.”

 

“But Syrio even said that he hand-picked Gendry – “

 

“And there’s that!” Arya interrupted. “I mean, how does he even know Gendry anyways?”

 

“I dunno, hells, the same way you know him?” She grabbed her water bottle from the cupholder, struggling to get the cap off while still driving, until Arya snatched it out of her hands to open it for her.

 

“Asha, I know him as that guy from Storms End Barbell who is somehow at all the same meets as I am, and always comes over to talk to me or wish me good luck… or steal snacks from duffel bag. A few months ago at the Highgarden meet I get back from the bathroom and he’s eating _my_ peanut butter out of the jar… using _my_ fucking spoon. _That_ is how I know him.”

 

“If you ask me, it sounds like he took this job because he has a crush on you.” Arya knew there was a shit-eating grin on Asha’s face without even having to turn her head.

 

“Don’t you even say that, Greyjoy.”

 

Asha just laughed at her. “Tell me, does he pull your braid when you walk by, too? You have to admit, he is kinda hot. Maybe a little too pretty for my taste, but he seems to fit your type…”

 

“So help me gods, if you keep talking, I will open this door and jump out into traffic.”

 

Asha decided to drop the topic, mostly because she didn’t fully trust Arya _not_ to tuck and roll into traffic.

 

They arrived at SSC at seven-thirty, just enough time for the both of them to catch up with whatever gossip Jaqen had for them that morning, run through their mobility podcast, and then go their separate ways to start their warm-ups. Arya had the printed out copy of Gendry’s program still with her, folded up and shoved between the last piece of paper and the cover of her notebook. She’d thought about forgetting it on the kitchen table, but took it with her at the last minute for some reason.

 

Arya opened her notebook to the page for today’s date, already having written the original programming on it when this cycle started three weeks ago. She jotted it down quickly on the whiteboards mounted on the wall behind each platform, and then got down to business.

 

About a half hour later, when she’s in the middle of a building up to a heavy single clean and jerk, she noticed Gendry standing off to the side, leaned against the pull-up rack that runs the middle of the room, waiting for her to finish her next lift. On purpose, she does the best lift she can, and he walked over as soon as she dropped the bar.

 

Arya didn’t have time to say anything to him before he spoke. There weren’t full clean and jerks in his program today, and besides that it was pretty obvious just based on what she’d written on the whiteboard that she was doing her own thing. “Arya, is there someplace that we can go and talk? Privately.” He said the last word through gritted teeth, and she could tell that the was trying his damnedest not to yell at her in front of Asha, the other two lifters, and the fifteen or so people in the CrossFit class.

 

She glanced over to Asha on the platform next to hers, and she looked up from adding more weight to her bar to shake her head, giving Arya a look that simply said, _now you’re in for it_. Arya agreed, telling Gendry to follow her, and she led him to the only place in the building that she’s certain won’t be occupied at this time of the morning, her father’s office. She closed the door behind them and sat down on the desk, waiting for him to speak.

 

“Imagine, Arya… the surprise I got this morning when I got to work to see that you’re not using the programming I sent you,” he said, leaning against the door. He wore a pair of grey high-top Converse All-Stars, black Nike jogger capris, and a dark blue Storms End Barbell club t-shirt. She cursed Asha in that moment for reminding her that while he annoys the ever-loving shit out of her, that she does find him attractive – she had to immediately stamp out the errant thought of what they could be doing alone in the office. “Care to let me know what’s going on?”

 

“I thought it’d be best if I finished out Syrio’s programming, that’s all,” Arya answered. _Now, can we please get of this office so I can stop fixating on how you should really be wearing a size bigger t-shirt?_

 

He nodded as if he understood her rationalization. “I see,” he started, “Did you stop to think about what exactly you were going to do in two weeks, when Syrio’s programming is done? Were you gonna make it up as you went?”

 

“No, I didn’t, but –“

 

“Exactly. It’s not _your_ job to worry about your training, it’s _mine_. I know you have something against me, and why, I have no clue, but it’s a little disappointing that you’d risk your chance at the National team for that.”

 

“I don’t know why I need to listen to you,” she half-yelled at him as she stood up, feeling herself starting to get defensive when he spoke about her not making the team, _which is not an option_. “You’re only eight years older than me. And as I recall, _you’ve_ never made the National team.” She folded her hands across her chest, shifting her weight to her left side and cocking her head like she had something up on him.

 

“You’re right, I haven’t. Thank you for the reminder. Should I be flattered that you know so much of my competition history?” He pushed himself off the door and took the few steps across the office to stand in front of her. She was instantly reminded of how much height he had on her.

 

 _Fuck. He’s got me there_. And the worst part was that she did know his competition history.

 

It was his time to gloat. “Anyway,” he continued when she was silent and he realized she didn’t have a comeback, “What you seem to have overlooked is that while I personally haven’t made the Westerosi team or competed at Worlds, is that I have coached six athletes that _did_ make the team and _did_ go to Worlds. _Six_ , Stark. And now you, you’ll be my number seven.”

 

She was surprised at his ability stun her into silence, yet again, and she was confused at her feelings upon hearing herself referred to as ‘his’. _His number seven._ It sounded vaguely lucky and she definitely didn’t hate it. She’d looked up when he said that, only to have him catch her eyes, looking square right back at her when he continued to speak.

 

“That is, if you can trust me. Do you think you can do that?”

 

She nodded calmly.

 

“Good. Let’s get back to work then, shall we?”


	4. 8 Weeks Out

**8 Weeks Out**

It’d been almost four weeks of working through her new training program she’d received from Gendry, and Arya was feeling like she finally understood the phrase ‘rise and grind.’ The first week of programming hadn’t truly been all that bad, but the second week ramped up with more lifts each day, along with higher rep counts and higher weights, and it just seemed to get worse from there. _My simple program before seemed fine_ , she thought. _Worked fine for Juniors and all my other comps, and now…_ Now there were lists of evening accessory work, snatches and cleans from the blocks and all different hang positions, complexes with front squats, overhead squats, and jerks. You name it, it was on there. She was able to grind through how he pushed her, and he’s always there, concentrating on watching her while she lifts, reminding her to finish her pull, or stay in her heels, or _commit, Arry, you’ve got to commit to the lift_. He was always helpful, but with the combination of the new programming and how often it seemed like he had to correct her, she was starting to feel like maybe this goal was too far out of her reach.

 

“Sometimes you just have to get used to a different style of training, Arya,” her dad said. She’d caught him one Friday during his lunch break, a short twenty minutes before the next Crossfit class would start. “I wasn’t only coached by your grandfather you know, I had to get used to lots of different coaches and training styles through the years.”

 

“I know that, Dad, it’s just, ugh.” She stopped for a moment, spinning side to side in the barstool. “It’s frustrating, and new, and I feel like no matter what I do it’s never enough.”

 

“Syrio is a great coach, but I can’t lie to you, sweetheart, I felt the exact same way when I moved from training with an Essosi coach to a Westerosi program. You’ll be thankful for it though, I promise,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “Remember, Syrio and I approached Gendry with this opportunity to train you. I wouldn’t have brought someone all the way up here if I didn’t have faith in their methods, so I think you just need to trust the process, okay?”

 

Arya sighed. “’Kay, dad.”

 

“Good,” he said, then pushed a plate across the counter at her. “Now’s here the other half of my sandwich, before you ask for it. Just don’t tell you sister.”

* * *

 

She was warming up with a few sets of clean pulls when she heard her phone buzz twice, alerting her to a text, and she ignored it. A minute later, it did it again, and she ignored it once more… until her phone actually rang. Her phone almost _never_ rang, and if it did, it was usually one of the six other people that were in the gym, that she could see from her platform, and of course none of them were on their phones. Groaning loudly, as if this was the biggest hassle ever, Arya walked the few steps back on her platform and picked her phone up from the window ledge, saw that it was Sansa calling her, then looked over to Gendry. She learned pretty quickly in the past couple of days that he disliked his athletes having distractions around, small talk was okay, but for some reason phones got on his nerves. When he didn’t immediately shake his head, she answered.

 

“Arya! Are you watching TV? Please tell me you’re seeing this.”

 

“What?” she asked. “No, I’m lifting, you know that. Is something wrong? You never call.”

 

“Turn on the TV in the gym, like right now. To WSN.”

 

_Since when does Sansa watch the Westeros Sports Network…?_

 

“Sans, is this really impor—”

 

“Yes!” Sansa interrupted, practically yelling into the phone. Arya could hear Margaery’s shouts in the background as well. “They’re going to be talking about you, you’re on the line-up.”

 

“What the fuck?” Arya was on the move now. She dropped the straps she’d been using on the clean pulls and stepped over the bar, walking off the platform and making a beeline for the lounge area and the television.

 

It wasn’t until she was a few steps off the platform that Gendry realized she wasn’t just grabbing another set of change plates. “Arya, you’re in the middle of your warm-up, you can’t just—”

 

“It can wait,” she yelled back to him. “It has to wait.” She grabbed the remote control and flipped on the TV, quickly turning to the correct channel. Everyone else in the gym had started to wonder what was happening, abandoning their weights and platforms to wander over to where Arya stood. The topic line-up was shown on the right side of the screen, and sure as shit, there she is, _A New Stark at Nationals?_ , sandwiched a minor league baseball pitcher’s Tommy John surgery and news of a prize racehorse being bred after winning its final Triple Crown.

 

The two anchors finished talking about the baseball player, moving on to her. Asha already had her phone out, snapping pictures of Arya watching the news, full attention on what they’re saying, of the crowd, and then a video of the broadcast despite that it’ll be up on their YouTube channel later.

 

As they chat, mostly about her placement at her last Westerosi Open competition a couple months back, and a little bit about her family history, and Arya can’t help but smile when they show old photos of her dad’s win at Worlds in 1992, one of him at the bottom of catching his record-breaking snatch and another of the awards ceremony, the one that’d been plastered on the front page of every newspaper north of the Trident. The footage faded to shots of Arya lifting, as well as a slow motion Hook Grip video, which she knows is her third snatch attempt from the Open. They’d sent her the raw footage in an email and she’d made Asha watch it with her almost a hundred times.

 

“…and it might not be common knowledge until now, but her coach Syrio Forel has been spotted over is Essos, focusing on building up her competition on the Braavosi team, so it’s clear to say that he’s out of the picture.”

 

“That’s right, Mike, but our roving reporter was able to catch up with Stark’s new coach, last weekend at Youth Nationals in Highgarden.” The footage does a quick montage of the training hall, competitors, and spectators at the venue, but Arya doesn’t see it. She’s got her gaze over her shoulder at Gendry now, standing at the back of the group, and a couple of other heads are turned his way too. He’d been down in Highgarden last week with another one of his athletes, a fourteen year old girl that he coached remotely, and Arya knew that, of course, but she hadn’t expected this.

 

She looked back at the TV just in time to see him on camera, even wearing a SSC hoodie. He’s asked about the weather first, which seems to be their standard fluff question for anyone who’s ever been to the northern half of Westeros.

 

“It’s just as cold as you think it is, but ya know, you do get used to it quickly. Glad I’m close enough to walk to the gym some days though.”

 

“Now, lets get right down to it, you joined the Stark Strength team only twelve weeks out from the National Trials competition, and the only athlete they have in the running this year is Arya. Needless to say she’s got quite big expectations to live up to – do you think she’ll be lucky enough to place and land a spot on the team?”

 

He smirked a bit and shook his head, an expression she’s seen more times than she can count by now, but it still made Arya wonder exactly what’s going through his mind. “Luck has nothing to do with it. Arya and I were only acquaintances before, but in the last few weeks coaching her, I’ve learned that she doesn’t need luck. Preparing for this consumes her – she’s relentless and always pushing herself, and fiercely competitive. And then there’s her strength, of course physically, but she’s 100% in the game mentally too.”

 

“So it’s safe to say you’re pretty confident then?”

 

“Yes,” he replied, not missing a beat. “She’s amazed me every time we train, proving every time how much she deserves this, and she’ll prove it to everyone else in a few weeks.”

 

The interview cut off there and went back to the newscasters in the studio, summarizing up the topic before they go on to the next. Arya’s missed every single word said since Gendry stopped talking about her, looking over her shoulder at him but he doesn’t notice, still watching the rest of the report with everyone else. A part of her is blown away at what she just heard him say in that interview, amazed that he would say he believes in her, that she doesn’t need luck, not to mention the excited way he spoke about her. _I’ve spent four weeks thinking he’s working me into the ground because he thinks I’m for shit_ , Arya thought, _not because he knew I could take it_. She decided she’d find the time to bring it up with him, but not then. _It’s already taken enough time from my warm-up and I may need to hurry if I don’t wanna miss my shift at Indigo_. She wanted to march over to him and demand that he tell her if it’s true or not, or if maybe he’s just hamming it up for WSN, since he’s her coach and he can’t very well tell a national sports broadcast that he _doesn’t_ believe in her.

 

She finished out her morning session alone, putting her headphones in and turning her music up to block everyone else out, when she normally treats mornings like this partly as social time with Asha or Jaqen, or whoever else comes to lift that early in the day. When she returned back to the gym around seven that evening for accessory work, Gendry’s still there. _Making himself right at home, I see_. He’s in the corner by the rowing machines, his work space set up on some gymnastic mats, sitting in that weird bean bag chair from the lounge that everyone avoids, and using a bench as a table. He’s got an iPad set up on a stand, a pen and notepad with him, and a half-finished Chipotle burrito bowl to his right on a plyo box.

 

“Evening, Waters,” Arya said, dragging over a medicine ball that someone didn’t put away from the last Crossfit class and sitting down on it next to him. She made a mental note to tell Robb that he needs to remind the coaches to tell everyone to put their shit away. “I’m a fan of the makeshift living room and all, really, I am, but I thought we’d gotten you an apartment weeks ago.”

 

“Nope, I live here now.” He picked up the bowl from the wooden box and took a bite of his food. “It’s sort of like Phantom of the Opera, except less opera and more Chipotle.”

 

“Ya know, I think I prefer your version to the original. What’re you working on anyways?” She leaned over to try and see what was on the screen – a paused iPhone video of one of her jerks from earlier that day.

 

“Oh, just going through your training videos from today, taking some notes. Behind the scenes stuff.”

 

“So um, speaking of today…”

 

“Yea… is everything okay with you? You seemed a little off after the WSN segment. Just put your headphones on and didn’t talk to anyone else for the rest of your session.” He put the plastic lid on his food and set it back on the box. “If I said something that upset you, you gotta let me know. I mean, shit, Arry, I thought you’d be really happy with the whole thing. If I thought you’d get upset I would’ve told them to piss off when they asked for an interview.”

 

“What? No, no… I was happy. Fucking ecstatic, really, it’s just that…,” Frustrated, she stood up, pulling her hair out of its braid and looking down at him. “…this whole time, you’ve felt that way? Like I can really do this?”

 

“Are you asking if I meant it? If I really do believe you have it in you?” She nodded, watching as his expression changed from disbelief to understanding. “Hey, come on. Sit back down.” He gestured towards the medicine ball and she shuffled over, sitting back down and facing him. “You’ve got potential like I’ve never seen before and you’ve usually got enough confidence for three people. What’s the real hang up?”

 

She paused for a moment, wondering if she should really tell him. She remembered what she’d agreed to four weeks ago – to trust him. _I guess opening up falls under that too_ , she thought before she finally spoke. “Just a lot of pressure. Family legacy and all. After Robb got hurt they’re all looking to me. And I know, I wasn’t nervous at Junior Nationals, but no one cares about that. The Nationals team will compete at Worlds next winter, Gendry. _Worlds_.”

 

“And I’ve been there. Remember? Six times, and you’re my lucky number seven that doesn’t even need the luck.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“Stop guessing and do it.” He reached over to her shoulder, some sort of half-hearted attempt at comforting her, which ends up more like light massage, that’s nowhere close to the amount of pressure she gets during her sports massages. “Holy shit, your traps are tight. That’s probably why you missed those jerks today. Now, get over here so I can try to work out this mess.”

 

“Can I finish your Chipotle?” she asked, moving from the ball to sit on the gym mat in front of him.

 

He sighed, but broke into a laugh halfway through. “Yes, Arya, you can finish my Chipotle.”

 

She grabbed the bowl and the fork, then looks over her shoulder at him before he starts. “Thanks, Gendry.”

 

“For the Chipotle?”

 

“For everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So wow, this update was a long time coming, but I do have the next chapters and conclusion mapped out, so bear with me. OK, let's get down to it, a few notes/explanations that might help.
> 
> Remote coaching: receiving programming from a coach who isn't at your home gym. you'd typically meet every so often and they would come to your meets with you as well. 
> 
> Gendry's new style of coaching: she's used to Syrio's still, which I've based off Bulgarian style (main focus on comp lifts and squats); and Gendry's on the Chinese style of training, which includes a lot more variations on the main lifts and accessories. 
> 
> The Trials Comp: in this AU, you gain a place on the National Team by placing on the podium during the team trial competition, and the National team is who would compete at Worlds, sort of like the Olympics. In reality the USA team isn't decided this way, it's much too complicated to put in a fic so...


	5. 5 Weeks Out

**5 weeks out**

 

Arya thought the commotion around the gym would’ve died down by now. She could understand the first week, being on the news _was_ a big deal and all, but it’d been close to three whole weeks since Arya and the rest of the gym watched WSN’s segment about her and their interview with Gendry, and not many days had gone by without _someone_ making some offhand comment about them, or asking about their relationship. Asha sent the pictures she’d taken of Arya and the group watching the broadcast to Bran, and somehow he got ahold of the WSN footage and posted it all over the SSC website and various social media pages he took care of. First, it was a just a couple of comments she’d seen before, remarks about attractive he is, or how maybe they’d have taken up weightlifting too if they’d been aware of how hot the coaches are _. Pfft, good idea, lady. My last coaches were my dad and a 60 year old man, but more power to ya_. Pretty soon though, the comments and insinuations started to bleed through to her real life social circle as well.

 

“Hey, Arry, how’s your new boyfri—err, _coach_ settling in to Winterfell?” _Margaery Tyrell, shit-stirrer extraordinaire_. Arya loved her sister’s girlfriend – her quick wit and ‘give no fucks’ attitude meshed well with her own – but sometimes, like now, she found she didn’t appreciate her candidness quite as much. _Why are they all hanging out at my apartment anyways?_

 

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

 

“He sure seems to think pretty damn highly of you,” Margaery replied. “We all watched that interview…”

 

“And you _are_ with him, like, all the time, as well as being a prime feature on his Insta.” _Oh, Asha, there you are. How nice of your to join the conversation._

 

“He’s my coach, that’s how it works,” she replied, rolling her eyes. It was true - he spent the majority of his time focused on her. Gendry did help out with some of the other classes if they were large or if someone needed some extra help on their snatch or clean and jerk, but since Arya was their only lifter on the team trying out for the National Team, she was his main priority for the time being. “And I dunno if you’ve heard, but I’ve sorta got this really important comp coming up. Nationals team trials? Perhaps you know of it.”

 

“Well here, at the gym, sure. But Jaqen said he stopped by Indigo the other day and saw you two all cozied up ‘round Gendry’s laptop.”

 

“Oh, come off it, Asha, that’s –”

 

“And I heard Meera say she saw you with him at Costco when she was out buying more stuff for the box,” Asha continued, ignoring anything Arya had tried to interject.

 

“Alright, first off, yea, we went to Costco. I’ve got mom’s membership card and Gendry doesn’t have one. I don’t see the big deal,” Arya explained, shrugging as she moved from her spot at the kitchen table and walked towards the living room, gathering up her work apron, name badge, and backpack on the way. “And second, I do have _some_ free time in my day, I’ll have you know. He stopped by Indigo after my shift was over because he wanted an opinion on a video one of his remote athletes sent him. Also, I’m not sure it’s any of your business if I choose to be friends with him, and besides, we did know each other before he started coaching me anyways.”

 

“Didn’t I ever tell you about how when you realize you’ve got something good you shouldn’t ignore it for too long?” Sansa said from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, walking out into the living room. She came up to the sofa behind Margaery and put her arms around her, leaning down to rest her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “I almost missed my chance with Maggy that way, ya know.”

 

Arya knew, she’d heard their meet-cute story a thousand times by now. She also knew the Instagram comments were correct, that Gendry is attractive. _And a good coach_. Attentive, always watching from the side, texting in the evenings to see how she’s feeling. Since he had started and noticed some issues with her jerk, they’d been working together to work all of the kinks out of that as well, him trying to think up all the accessory exercises or tips he could give her to make it more consistent.

 

He knew how to calm her down when she was angry or upset, most often regaling her with stories of the many times he’d messed up in training or, even worse, on the platform. He still stole her mom’s homemade granola bars out of her backpack when she wasn’t looking, and she’d caught him about to dig into her jar of peanut butter on more than one occasion, but it’d all started to seem… like a joke? Endearing? He’d quickly gone from being a bit bothersome to annoying as shit when he first arrived, to a friend and equal, and now… she allowed herself to smile when she thought of him, just a few days earlier, entirely covered in chalk from when he knocked the bowl over, looking over at her exploding in laughter on her platform. He’d yelled something like, _oh, you’re in for it now, Stark_ , before running towards her, giving her a hug and in turn covering her in chalk as well. _Yea, so I’ve got a crush on him_ , she thought. _Sure as shit not gonna tell the interrogation squad here though._

 

“Whatever, I’ve gotta jet anyways,” she said, shoving her things into her bag and then slinging it over her left shoulder. “Work time. People of Winterfell need their coffee.”

 

XxXxX

 

She usually wouldn't be driving past the gym so late, but she'd ended up staying late and working a double shift at Indigo for a coworker with a sick kid, and going past the gym was the fastest route back to her apartment at this time of night. She could see the lights on inside as soon as she turns the corner onto Pineview, and started to wonder what the deal is. _It’s damned near midnight_ , she thinks, sneaking a glance at the clock on the dashboard. The last Crossfit classes end at 8pm, and if there's anyone there past 9pm it's usually for a special event, but she knew there was nothing on schedule for quite a while.

 

“Shit,” she cursed aloud, hitting her turn signal and pulling into the parking lot. _What in the hells is going on?_ _I guess I’ve gotta go in and investigate, being the owner’s kid and all_. She just hoped she wouldn't have to tell her dad that Robb left the door and all the lights on after the last Crossfit class yet again.

 

She sighed when she got out of her car, remembering that she isn't tall enough to see through the windows. Walking over to the front door, she put her hands up to the glass to look inside and saw Gendry on the far side of the room. The lifting platforms line the wall opposite the front door, on the other side of the rig, and he'd taken up residence on _her_ platform, the farthest one, the one with the good morning lighting, though she conceded she doesn't really care who's using it at 11:40 at night.

 

She opened the door as quietly as she could, waiting until he'd finished the lift he was on, so as not to startle him, but the music is blaring so loud he didn’t notice her, just setting up again and going into his next lift. _AC/DC, Back in Black_ , she recognized with a quick smile, continuing to hug the side wall of the building. It was always one of her dad’s favorites for when he wanted to train and not be bothered. She had sort of been wondering when he lifted, but apparently this is when he managed to squeeze in his own training. _I'm amazed he's so damn chipper when he shows up at eight in the morning if he’s here ‘til midnight_. He's at work on his snatches, light weights, or what she figured must be light weights for him, given what she knew of his competition history.

 

That's when she noticed it, a weak point. He's caught every lift he's attempted since she walked in, but there's a wobble when he drops to catch it. She watched him take another lift and she sees it again, the same wobble at the bottom, and she figured the only way he's still able to stand the lift up properly is because it's not too heavy yet. He completed the lift and let it clang back down to the platform, repositioning the bar with his foot.

 

"I see you standing there, Arya," he said, his rest break coinciding with the bit of silence between Back in Black and You Shook Me All Night Long. "You're small and sneaky, but you're not invisible."

 

"And you've got a wobble when you catch snatches." She said as she walked towards him. The next song started and she saw him turn the volume down a touch.

 

"What?"

 

"Don't act like you aren't working on it. Unless you enjoy throwing only 50 kilos around, even I don't." She stood on the next platform over for a moment, then grabbed a tall block, setting it in the middle, and perching herself on top, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on them.

 

"And what if I am working on something?"

 

"I could help you," she shrugged. "If you want. Snatches are kinda my thing, ya know."

 

"Thought they were more Sansa's thing."

 

Arya stood immediately, and started to walk off the platform. "Fine, you're on your own if you're gonna be that way. I'm going home."

 

She heard the hollow sound his lifters made on the floor as he's jogging towards her, but she still jumped a bit when he grabbed her hand to stop her from going any further. "I'm sorry, Arry. I'm sorry. I'd love it if you helped me."

 

"Alright, come on, before I change my mind." He smiled when she agreed to help, letting go of her hand a few seconds later. She missed the contact, _it's still a bit chilly outside this late at night and he's warm_ , she told herself, it's definitely not that she has really started to enjoy the way he smiles at her when she makes a heavy lift, or how he’d gained the habit of stopping by Indigo to work on her programming there instead of at the gym, or that she's been way too busy with training and it's been way too long since she's been with anything that isn't battery operated.

 

He passed her his cell phone and she set it up on the tripod to film him. He took another lift, setting up the same way as before, and when they go through the lift frame by frame, she kept going back and forth to show how he's pulling between second and first position.

 

"You're forward. You're still forward when you're trying to extend, and it's making you land funny and then correct so that your weight goes back in your heels," she stated, matter of factly. "But we can fix that." He stood next to her, bent over to get to her height since she was the one holding the phone, and she clapped him on the back. "Alright, time to get to work."

 

Just in case, Arya set the phone up to record again, then grabbed an empty bar and started taking him through second to first position pulls, the same way she would for the beginner classes she taught every so often when another coach was out. _Come on, Arya, you need to act like a professional_ , she thought, _he’s professional with you_. She set her hands on his lower back and thighs, adjusting him where she wants him, _well, not really_ , she thought for a hot second, before pulling herself together again.

 

"Good, now we do it the exact same way but with the weight this time," Arya announced, pushing the loaded bar back up onto the platform. She got herself into her start position, tossing it overhead, exactly the way she's shown him. "Like so," she said, and she thought she might've heard him mutter 'show off' under his breath.

 

They switched spots, and she squatted down low next to the block on the neighboring platform, resting her right arm on it. "Come on, Gen, you've got this. It's baby weights for you, now do it."

 

He went through his normal routine to get into position, feet slighter closer than below his hips, and then gets set up and pulls, pulls perfectly through all three positions, to full extension, then drops under, absolutely no wobble. He still stood it up easily, breathing heavy as he held it overhead for a second or two longer than necessary before dropping it. When Gendry looked over at her for approval, she's already standing and jumping over the space between the platforms to him.

 

“Fuck yea, Gendry, that’s how you do it!” she exclaimed, almost yelling, as she pressed herself into his side for a hug. He’s covered in chalk and sweat and she couldn’t care less, part of her just wanted an excuse to be closer to him again, and another part is genuinely happy that her advice worked. “Almost as good as me,” she added, still holding on to him as he caught his breath. “But I did learn from the best, though.”

 

“Me?” he asked, shifting over to look down at her.

 

“No, stupid. Ned Stark.” She looked up to catch his gaze and winked at him.

 

“I can’t argue with that, ’92 world champ and all.”

 

“How much more do you have tonight?” Arya asked, finally prying herself away, internally chiding herself for hanging on to him for so long.

 

“Just some front squats, nothing heavy though.” He bent down to the barbell, taking off the clips and pulling the weights off one end.

 

“Care if I hang around?” she asked. Coming around to the other side, she grabbed the other 15kg plate and walked it over to the stacks by the rig to put it away.

 

“You do sort of own the place.”

 

“Yea,” she agreed. He’d walked over to the rig and changed the clips to match his shoulder height, Arya walking the bar over to him. “I sort of do, don’t I?”

 

She stuck around to watch, helping him add weight to the bar between his warm-up sets, jokingly cheering him on during even the lightest sets. By the time he’s halfway through his sets at his working weight, he noticed Arya falling asleep, propped up against a plyo box. He decided to call it a night too, waking her up and not taking no for an answer when she slurred that she was “ _actually not that tired and can drive myself home_.” Instead, he grabbed her keys from her backpack, driving her the last couple of blocks to back to her apartment. When she got quiet on the drive, he’d first thought that maybe she had decided not to argue anymore, but saw her slumped over in the seat, having fallen asleep again.

 

She was still sound asleep when he pulled up to her apartment building, not waking until he walked around to the passenger door, opening it and gently shaking her shoulder to wake her up.

 

“Come on, Arry, you’re home,” he said. He took her hand and helped her out of her Jeep, but she said nothing, just made unhappy grumbling noises. “Sorry, wasn’t gonna let you drive yourself home when your falling asleep on the floor of the gym,” Gendry explained, though he was pretty sure Arya wasn’t really processing anything he said. “Only 5 weeks out and I’ve trained you too long to have you ruin it by getting into an accident.” He was still holding her keys, and unlocked the front entrance door before hitting the lock button on her key fob and putting them back into her backpack.

 

He was just ready to leave when she turned to wrap her arms around him again. “You’re the best, Gendry,” she said, though it was almost half yawns. “Even if your snatch could still use some work.”

 

She let go of him and walked inside, and he watched from the doorway as she plodded down the hallway, fumbling with the key a bit before finally getting into her apartment. He shook his head and turned to walk back to his apartment, only a couple blocks away. Gendry repositioned his gym bag’s shoulder strap, then pulled out his phone and headphones, putting one headphone in, and watching the videos of the lifts from earlier. The video she filmed to help him turned out to be a pretty long video, capturing everything from his first wobbly lift, to her helping him with his positions, all the way to his corrected lift. _It’s weird to see us interacting from a third person point of view_ , he thought when he watched Arya’s celebrations start and then saw her run over to him. His eyes widen in surprise when he picked up on the way she looked at him, recognizing it for what it most likely was - the same way he looked at her when he hoped to gods she couldn’t tell. Truth be told, he’s had some sort of _thing_ for her, some weird soft spot lodged between hero worship and high school infatuation ever since her saw her lift for the first time at a meet he was coaching at in Kings Landing. He hadn’t competed for himself in some time then, maybe over a year, always telling people he was burnt out from the competition circuit when he was in university, and that coaching was plenty time consuming, but after watching her at that meet he went home and immediately signed up for the next local meet in Storms End.


	6. 2 Weeks Out

**2 weeks out from National Team Trials**

 

She knew she was going to get a huge influx of fan mail after today, and while it’s incredibly weird sometimes to think that there are actually people out in the world spending their own time to write her letters, or gods, even draw pictures of her… she’d be lying if she said she didn’t spend hours on the floor in her apartment going through each and every thing she received. Her and Gendry are both seated on metal folding chairs off to the side of the lunchroom that is doubling as an auditorium, him to her right, and then the principal, gym teacher, a number of other teachers on her left, as well as the other guests. Her father gave her the news about a week and a half ago, that the superintendent of the local school district wanted her to be a guest at the sports day assemblies at each of the four Winterfell elementary schools.

 

Today was the last one, Winterfell Central Elementary, and she’s looking out at the same floor that she used to sit on during assemblies fifteen years ago. The lights are dimmed just enough so that the video playing on the large screen that’s front and center is visible, but still bright enough that the teachers can see all the children. She’d seen Gendry grin when lights first dimmed and the children yelled and made noise, and she remembered hollering at the top of her lungs whenever the lights went out at their age, and clearly nothing has changed with nine year-olds today either.

 

Everyone went silent when the video started playing, the music loud and inspiring, and even though it’s just a quick four minute montage of her training at SSC and clips from competitions, she loved the way the teachers and children were paying such close attention, and especially how wide the eyes got on some of the kids when the video showed her personal record lifts. The same as with each of the three schools before, she gave a quick demonstration and then explanation of the sport, and there was a question and answer session afterwards. She had already begun to think that the questions were staged, but she’s used to answering when everyone about what her days are like, or how she deals with the pressure of hundreds or thousands of eyes watching her when she competes. Arya told them that for big competitions, the lights are so bright that from the platform the lifter almost can’t see the audience, but for smaller meets, it helps to focus on something at the back of the room, if there’s a picture hanging on the wall or the flag, telling them know it’s a good trick to use if they’re nervous to speak in front of the class for presentations or book reports too.

 

Afterwards, the not-so-fun part - posing for what seemed like a million pictures. “I haven’t had this many pictures taken of me since junior prom,” Gendry leaned down and whispered between when one group of kids is leaving and another hasn’t taken their places yet.

 

“Oh man, junior prom,” Arya replied, shaking her head. “Mom took about a hundred. She’d just had the fireplace redone too.” She’s silent for a moment before continuing. “You look nothing like my date though… gods, Mya looked amazing.”

 

The next group of kids filed up on the steps before he was able to reply. The photographer let them know this is a bigger group than last, commenting that they need to squeeze in closer, _like they like each other_ , she added. Gendry’s hand was at her back at once, smoothing across the SSC t-shirt she wore, stopping at her waist to tug her close. She hoped it wouldn’t be too obvious in the photos that he’s practically got her tucked into his side. _Or I’ll never catch the end of it from Asha and Jaqen_ , she thought. _Or Sansa. Or Margaery_. He’s touched her plenty since they started coaching, but this was different. She’s used to everything from little extra pushes to help her stretch further, to his hands on her waist, hips, and everywhere in between, re-positioning her in ways that most people would find rather intimate. But it wasn’t. It was business, his job, and he had to do it. Just like Syrio had helped before when her back was rounded or she hadn’t lowered her hips enough, and just how Robb or her father had helped before him. She was able to stop thinking about his hand and the hole it’s burning through her shirt when, _thank the gods_ , four kids decide they want a picture of her and Gendry attempting to lift them over their heads, and the photographer somehow thought it was a great idea.

 

XxXxX

 

“You wanna stop and get a snack?” Gendry asked. Arya had just put her car in drive to pull away from the school lot. “I'm super hungry all of a sudden. Dunno what it is about being around kids that tires me out like nothing else. Heavy squat days, no problem, a handful of eight year olds and I’m waving the white flag.” He raised his hands in defeat.

 

“I hear ya on that. I can't though,” she said, pausing. “Or rather, I shouldn’t.”

 

“Sansa's iron fist meal planning?”

 

“You know it. Gods, she should really rebrand it to that.”

 

“What’d you weigh in at this morning?

 

“58.9 kilos.”

 

“Well ya know, I am your coach and all,” he started, reaching over to put his hand on shoulders. “So I think in my, very professional, opinion, that not only will you make weight without an issue, but the morale boost you’d get from some ice cream could really help your jerks.”

 

“Oh, so is _that_ what my programming has been missing all these years? Ice cream? If that’s the case, I really need to tell Syrio where he went wrong.”

 

“Yep. It’s science. I’ve been coaching for years, trust me.”

 

“Fine, let’s go get some ice cream,” she agreed, finally. Arya looked over to see him smiling, like he’s won. “But we’re sharing.”

 

A few hours later, Arya found herself cornered by Sansa while she was working on some accessory work that Gendry had added on to her schedule that day. _Ice cream works wonders and all_ , he had said when they got back to the gym, _but you’ve still got some push presses and tall jerks this evening_.  

 

“Hey, sis, you cool to talk for a little bit?” she asked, pushing over a stack of bumper plates on a roller closer to where Arya was and working, then sitting down on top of them.

 

Arya shrugged. “I guess, as long as you don’t mind if I keep working on these push presses. Gendry just texted me like a half hour ago and sprung some extra jerk work on me to complete this afternoon.” She cleaned the bar up to set it on the rack, quickly adding a set of 5 kilo plates on each side.

 

“Ahh, yes. Gendry. He’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” she started to explain, then waited for Arya to finish her first set. She pulled her iPhone out of the large front pocket of the SSC hoodie she’s wearing, swiped around a couple times, and then handed the phone out to Arya.

 

 _Well, fuck me_. A post from Gendry’s Instagram account was pulled up on screen, with the time stamp of two hours ago. It’s a picture of their cup of ice cream, cookies  & cream on one side and dark chocolate espresso chip on the other. Two pink plastic spoons are stuck out of the sides, and there’s a large to-go cup of coffee off to the side. The caption read “work hard, play hard,” and after a couple ice cream cone emoji, there’s hashtags like #icecreamisforjerks, #totallyscience, #trustmeimacoach.

 

Arya rolled her eyes and handed the phone back to Sansa. “Big deal, Gendry went to the ice cream shack.” She glanced at the clock and made her way to the loaded bar for her second set. “He’s allowed to go more places than just his apartment and the gym, ya know.”

 

“I just wonder who introduced it to him,” she replied. She stretched her legs out and then pulled them up to cross them on top of the plates. “I know someone who loves the ice cream shack _and_ the chocolate espresso chip,” she added once Arya had re-racked the bar.

 

“Listen, if you’re only here to rag on me because I had a teensy cheat meal then I really don’t –”

 

“It’s not that, Arry. You send me your weight every morning, I’m not worried about the first ice cream you’ve had in four months. It’s whatever the crap it is you’ve got going on with him.”

 

“Really, there’s nothing –”

 

“Stop that,” Sansa interrupted, hopping off the stack of plates and walking the few steps over to the barbell set up on the rack. She draped her arms over the top of the bar, blocking access to the bar, and looked at her sister head on. “Can you stop denying it?

 

Arya stopped and looked around the box, checking to see if there was anyone else around. The next Crossfit class won’t start for another half hour, too early for anyone to arrive for class yet. She walked over to the other side of the bar, pulling a stack of plates over to sit on top of, with Sansa following back to the stack she’d sat on before.

 

“Fine, then,” she replied, groaning loudly, “Since you seem to already know _everything_ , then yes, I admit that I might sort of like him.”

 

“Sort of?” The disdain in Sansa’s voice was enough to push her over the edge.

 

“Hells, Sansa, what more do you need? Yes, he’s gorgeous, and funny, and aggravating at times… and I blame you for buying the slim fit men’s sweatpants for the gym because now I can’t stop staring at his ass. Half the time I don’t know if I want to kiss that stupid look off his face or punch him in the mouth.”

 

“You should really tell him how you feel,” Sansa said, saying the exact words that Arya knew she’d say. “Maybe not the ‘punch in the mouth’ bit though.”

 

“I know, Sans, but I can’t. Not before the team trials.” Arya looked up at Sansa to see her side-eyeing her, then realized she’d been unfastening and refastening the Velcro strap on her lifters over and over as she spoke. _Crap_. “We’re traveling down there together before everyone else. I don’t want to imagine how awkward that’ll be if he doesn’t like me. Or shit, even worse, how’s it gonna affect how we mesh while he’s coaching that day?”

 

“First, and I know you probably don’t see this, but viewing you two as an outsider, I’m about 99% sure he has at least some more-than-friendly feelings for you. Second, if he doesn’t, then I think he just doesn’t know what’s good for him,” she explained. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of the hoodie pocket to check it, then hopped off the stack of plates. “I gotta jet, but I should be around later. I think I might do the 7pm class.”

 

Arya climbed off the stack of plates and pushed it back to the side of the racks. “ _You’re_ gonna Crossfit?”

 

“Yep, the times they are a-changing… I’m gonna throw some weights around, my baby sister is in love…”

 

Arya walked back to the racked bar, two 5 kilo plates in hand to add on for her next set. “Better watch what you say when I’ve got these change plates in hand.”

 

“Sorry, sorry. Couldn’t help myself,” Sansa said, walking past her sister to the front door. “And don’t forget what I said a while ago either, something really good could come from this, and I don’t want you to regret it.”

 

She turned and watched Sansa leave, facing the bar again once she heard the front door slam close. _She’s right_ , Arya thought. _She’s right and I fucking know it_.


	7. Chapter 7

“Now, you go through your bag once you’re at the hotel and you text me immediately if you need us to bring you anything, got it?” Asha said, handing them both their duffel bags from the trunk of her car. She turned around to check the back seat to make sure no one had left anything behind. “Actually, on second thought, could ya just text me either way to let me know? Maybe when your flight lands too?”

 

Arya nodded. “Got it, Greyjoy.” A part of her wished that Asha was joining them sooner. Her roommate had only one or two local competitions under her belt, but she was organized and surprisingly good at calming down even the most nervous first-time competitors. _Usually through a mixture of scathing humor and dirty jokes, but whatever works, I guess._

 

“Good, good,” Asha replied, then gave Arya and Gendry both quick hugs before getting back into her car and rolling down the passenger window. “See you Saturday evening!”

 

The flight went smoothly, though Gendry ribbed her a little bit for allowing the male flight attendant to help her lift her duffel bag into the overhead compartment.

 

_Not gonna do very well on Sunday if you can’t even overhead press your clothes for the weekend._

_Hah, real funny, Gendry. Not all of us can be as tall as you._

 

Arya texted Asha when they touched down in Kings Landing, and they quickly made their way on the train downtown, to the hotel and convention center where they have a good chunk of SSC-reserved hotel rooms and where she’ll be competing in a little under 48 hours. After checking in at the hotel, she texted Asha again, letting her know that all her things were successfully packed and she hadn’t forgotten anything important, like her lifting shoes or her singlet. The rest of Friday is spent getting lunch at Whole Foods, then groceries from there as well, checking in for the competition and attending the meeting for all lifters that evening. After being thoroughly lectured on the schedule of the weekend, they spent the remainder of the evening walking around the fitness expo, Arya quickly getting a tote bag from a vendor and proceeding to fill it up with as many free samples as it would hold. It’s the biggest event happening downtown that weekend, and a line of food trucks was lined up out front of the main entrance, along with people handing out coupons for nearby restaurants.

 

“You know you can’t eat any of that tonight?” Gendry said, noticing Arya eyeing a truck offering all sorts of foods he thought had no right to be deep-fried. “I don’t care if you’re already under 58, I’m not risking your stomach being upset tomorrow. Never had a clue why half this food is here anyways, looks like the damned state fair.”

 

“Oh, come on. I heard that fried Twinkies are awesome pre-meet nutrition,” she said, smiling at him when she noticed the horrified look on his face, then bumping into him with her shoulder. Instead, they spend the rest of Friday night sitting on the extra queen bed in Arya’s room, eating the Whole Foods pre-made salads they bought earlier and watching re-runs of Westerosi Pickers.

 

The day before her session was always the calm before the storm, and she knew this, and was glad that Gendry had picked up on that as well. He did his best to distract her until her family and the rest of their group arrived that evening – they walked around downtown, visited the modern art museum, and made it to the aquarium in time to watch the penguin feeding. They met everyone in the lobby later that evening, the first stop being a quick loop around the expo again so they could check out the vendors, Gendry having to stifle a laugh when he saw Sansa and the rest of the Stark siblings filling up tote bags of freebies like they’re out trick-or-treating. Afterwards, her parents ordered carry-out delivered to the hotel, and Arya was only a little bit grumbly about having to eat her prep food while everyone else had pizza.

 

The next morning, Gendry met her in the lobby at quarter to six, and left her to run to Starbucks as she got in the line to wait for her turn at weigh-in. When he returned, he was just in time to hear her name called and sees her grab her wallet out of her duffel bag before heading into the office that served as the women’s weigh-in room. She made quick work of weigh-in, less than five minutes inside the room, and he had to stop himself from wondering how she’s able to undress so quickly. Coming out of the office, she proclaimed herself good to go, under by almost a full kilo. “I could’ve had dessert last night,” she said as they walked to the warm-up area and grabbed a platform to have for her warm-up sets.

 

“You can eat now,” Gendry replied. He opened the soft-sided cooler he’d shoved into this luggage, now filled with snacks and the homemade protein bars that Mrs. Stark had brought with her. He grabbed out the plastic bottle of fruit punch flavored Pedialyte, giving it a shaking and opening it, before he handed it over to Arya along with the coffee he’d purchased for her while she was in line for weigh-in. “Here, electrolytes and caffeine. Start to work on that and then get some food into you.” He pulled a notebook and pen out of his duffel bag and flipped open to the page with her warm lifts on it, dog-eared from last night’s final review.

 

She finished her food and started her stretching and mobility work, pausing for a bit when her parents came by to tell her they were all ready and had gotten their seats, and wish her luck. Her dad didn’t try to give her any advice or coaching, instead he just looked at Gendry and nodded. Her declared openers meant that she was farther back in her session, giving her extra time to eat some more and work on her warm-ups since she wouldn’t have her opener until the majority of other lifters had already finished.

 

Her snatches went well, going three for three, but in the end she’s tied with Lyanna Mormont, another competitor from the North who Arya had known since well before either of them had started to compete, and for all intents and purposes was her main competition. When she and Gendry had discussed her lifts for the final time this morning as they walked to the weigh-in line, they decided that Arya wouldn’t make an attempt at the 93 kilo snatch record that day, instead they agreed to set her up for her third attempt to be 90 kilos. Through the last handful of weeks, even though Arya’s jerk had improved, her confidence in the lift still lagged behind, and Gendry had the feeling that while the snatch record was in her reach, he didn’t want to chance her missing it and then having it wreck her confidence going into the clean and jerk, where she would really need it.

 

Her clean and jerk opener went smoothly, like they’d planned, purposely picking a number they both knew that she would have no problem to hit. Arya saw the three white circles light up as she walked off the platform, breathing out a sigh of relief. _That’s right, you know how to do this. You do this every single day_. She took her place next to Gendry’s empty spot in the row of folding chairs reserved for lifters that were up soon, nodding her head as he walked by and held up three fingers. She put her headphones around her neck, watching him inform the judges of her next attempt. He came back and took the empty spot next to her, and draped his SSC hoodie over her legs to keep her warm.

 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Alright, you looked good out there.”

 

“No advice?”

 

Gendry shook his head. “Relax. Listen to your music. You’ve got a few minutes.”

 

He nudged her arm about five minutes later when the announcer called her up next. They walked to the side of the platform together as the clock started its countdown, Gendry waiting only a few seconds before she nodded her head and walked into the spotlight. Worry didn’t cross his mind as he watched her normal pre-lift routine that even he’s got memorized now – chalking up her hands, quickly slapping her thighs twice, and approaching the bar. He didn’t need to see her to know that she’s dead center between the knurling, that she’s closing her eyes for a split second, or that by the time she’s got her hands in around the bar that all other thoughts in her mind are gone. She made the clean without a problem, adjusted her hands just a smidge wider, and went into her jerk. From where he stood off to the side of the platform, the viewing angle wasn’t great, but his eyes are going back and forth between the bar over her head and the judges’ expressions. It looked alright from what he saw, but he has seen many lifts in the past that looked good from one angle, but not from another. _Shit, I’ve got a bad feeling about this_ , he thought, seeing the slightest change in expression on the far left judge’s face. He tried to see if the center judge gave any clues, but with his arm raised, he can’t see the man’s face. The down signal came and Arya dropped the bar, then sent her attention to the row of three unlit circles, waiting for them to light up.

 

_White, red, red._

 

She stalked off stage, careful not to show how upset she was, but she knew that everyone from SSC sitting out in the audience could see right through her. Gendry patted her on the shoulder as he walked by, heading closer to the edge of the stage instead of following after her. He made eye contact with the center judge and quirked an eyebrow up in question, watching him as he raised his left arm and tapped his elbow to show that she hadn’t locked out on that side. She stopped, undoing the clasp on her lifting belt as she waited for him once she saw he was confirming the error.

 

“What do you say, Arry?” Gendry asked when he walked back to where she stood, but she was pretty sure he was just speaking aloud hypothetically. “You were way too close to making that lift to stay… I say we increase like we had planned. You feel good with that?”

 

He guided her back to the folding chairs behind the tall curtain off to the side of the platform, urging her to sit down and rest. In the background, they could hear the announcers call for the volunteers to tighten up the weight for her to follow herself for her third attempt. “Yea, we’re increasing. Go tell ‘em.”

 

“That’s my girl,” Gendry said, smiling at her, then walking over to the announcer’s table to alert them to her plan to increase. Her stomach did a weird little flip-and-twist to hear him refer to her as _his girl_ , but she shoved that feeling down, ignoring it since now was definitely not the time. As Gendry walked back, she heard the announcers telling everyone about the changes, and put her headphones on to wait until it was her turn. He sat down next to her and put the hoodie back across her lap.

 

_Stop the clock, there’ll be an increase in weight and change in lifters. Loaders, please increase the bar to 112 kilos. Sarella Sand is up next for her third attempt, Lyanna Mormont on deck, Arya Stark in the hole._

 

He watched her get comfortable beside him, pulling up the hoodie and stretching out her legs as they waited. Sand’s lift was good, three white circles, and he thought about telling Arya, but decided against it. Sand had no more attempts after that, and Gendry doubted she’d make the team this year unless something catastrophic happens. At two years younger than Arya, he can tell she’s one to look out for. The loaders came out to increase the weight up to 114 kilos for Mormont’s lift, also her third and final attempt. He watched as Mormont made the lift, a little shaky on the pull and looking like she might not make it up and out of the hole, but her jerk goes perfectly. It was in that moment that Gendry realized something that both of them had neglected to remember, and he cursed himself in his head before turning to her. Arya jerked her head up when she felt Gendry’s hands on her knees. She had been so zoned out and into her music that she hadn’t even noticed him get up from the chair next to her. He had bent to kneel down in front of her, and she slipped her headphones off so they hung around her neck.

 

“Arya, you need to increase.”

 

“Huh?” she asked. In the background, she heard the announcer ask the bar loaders to tighten up the bar for her lift. “I _am_ increasing. 3 kilos, Gendry, like we said.”

 

“No, you need to increase _more_ if you want to win. If you go out there at 114 and make it, Lyanna still wins since she got it first.” Arya’s eyes widened in understanding. She knew the rules – if two lifters in the same weight class both successfully made the same weight lift, the win went to whoever made the lift first. “What do you want to do? Kilo up?” Gendry asked. She exhaled, and shook her head.

 

“Two,” she replied, watching the look appear on his face and knowing he understood what she’s going for. He pats her on the knee than walks over to the judges’ table, leaning down to speak to the head announcer.

 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we have a change in weights. Loaders, please increase the bar to 116 kilos. Arya Stark will be going for a new Westerosi national record with this lift,” the announcer explained, then waited a few seconds watching the bar loaders. “The bar is set, clock begins now.”

 

Arya was vaguely aware of what the announcer was saying in the background, instead concentrating on Gendry as he walks back from the judges’ table. “Okay, Arya,” he started, voice calm and even, reaching out a hand to help her up from the folding chair. The clock continued to countdown from sixty seconds as he walked with her to the edge of the curtains. When they stopped, he paused behind her, placing his hands on her biceps and bending down so she could hear him. “You don’t need any more coaching from me. You do this every day, you’re ready, and I believe in you. Now go show everyone else.”

 

Arya let out a breath and nodded, adjusting her belt as she made her way the last couple steps to the platform. _Just going through the motions now_ , she thought, quickly chalking up her hands and glancing at the countdown clock. _38 seconds, plenty of time_. She got into position behind the bar, taking a second to focus before starting to pull. Gendry looked on from the sidelines, but when she cleaned the bar, it’s textbook, none of the issues with the pull like Lyanna had.

 

_Weight in your heels_ , she heard, not certain if it’s a voice in her head or Gendry yelling cues off to the side. She pushed out of the bottom of her front squat, adjusting her grip and foot position slightly when she’s standing up fully. _Almost done, just dip, drive, extend fully, drop under, and lock those arms out_.

 

Dip, drive, drop, lock.

Dip, drive, drop, lock.

 

She closed her eyes for a quick second to envision herself making this jerk.

 

XxXxX

 

She’s ten, and it’s the first time her father gave her the 15 kilo women’s bar to work with. It’s only got a few change plates loaded on the ends but she sees how proud he is of her and she beams back at him. Dip, drive, drop, lock. _Perfect_. “See, daddy, I _told_ you I was ready.”

 

She’s fifteen and is hanging around the Winterfell high school weight room, waiting for her girlfriend Mya to get out of detention. She’s in her gym clothes, doing some of her light accessory work while her cousin Jon and the rest of the football team are squatting. She hears someone say something about _how they shouldn’t let little girls like her in the weight room_ , and she sees red. “What’d you say, Blount?” she asks, immediately knowing who it was.

 

“Said I bet you can’t even deadlift what I’ve got on the bar here for my squats,” he replies, and she sees Jon shake his in the background, because he knows what’s coming.

 

It’s all pounds in the weight room, so she adds up what he’s got on the bar and does some quick mental math to do the conversion – 70 kilos. “Oh, you don’t think so?” Arya says as she walks over to him. “No, you don’t need to move it.”

 

She walks up to the squat rack and gets positioned to walk backwards with the bar in front rack position, it’s a racked a bit too high for her, but she makes it work, stepping back two foot lengths. “…the hell is your cousin doing, Snow?”

 

“Embarrassing your dumb ass,” is all Jon says. How Blount doesn’t know what their family is known for is beyond him.

 

Dip, drive, drop, lock. _Perfect_ , Arya thinks. She drops the bar and walks out to see if Mya is done yet, middle finger raised behind her and she can hear the laughter aimed at Blount as she leaves.

 

She’s twenty, and it’s the meet where she met Gendry for the first time. It’s a charity meet, though she can’t remember the cause, rescuing puppies or feeding orphans in Essos or some heart-string tugging cause like that, but she remembers the way she felt him watching her. She’s been to youth and junior nationals, so Arya knows what the crowd’s gaze and the spotlight feels like, but this is different. He’s watching her with precision as she goes through her warm up stretches off to the side. It’s her last clean & jerk attempt, and she’s going conservative, since there’s a more important meet in a month or so, but the damn jerk still makes her nervous. The clean is fine, powered even, and her dad’s voice is in her head. Dip, drive, drop, lock. She hears Gendry’s cheers before she hears the buzzers from the judges. _Good lift_.

 

XxXxX

 

She opens her eyes and is transported back to the present. It’s now or never, and she knows she can’t be standing there under weight for long, she’ll get fatigued from just holding it. Arya inhales, feeling her stomach full of air braced against the constraints of her leather belt.

 

Dip, drive, drop, lock.

 

She feels locked out and her arms are shaking, almost vibrating, as she comes out of the bottom of her jerk and brings her feet together, pressing up into the bar as high as she can. The judge signals down and she drops the jerk finally. It’s a matter of seconds before she’ll know the judges’ decision, but it always feels like forever, especially when she’s not one-hundred percent certain that she’s got it.

 

But then it happens – one, two, then three white circles light up and it’s over.

 

Her stoic look is gone as her jaw drops for a quick moment before understanding dawns and the excitement hits her, a smile breaking out across her face. She gives a quick nod to the judges as she turns to leave the platform.

 

Arya hears the audience clapping, and thinks she hears that annoying whistle thing Margaery can do, but it’s all white fuzzy background noise as she bounds off the platform, leaping at Gendry who stops clapping just in time to catch her as she jumps to hug him. He doesn’t miss a beat as her legs wrap around his waist.

 

“And that’s it, folks, Arya Stark is the new Westerosi national record holder for the 58s!”

 

Arya thinks she’s going to cry, but in reality she can’t contain her laughter. Gendry still has her seated around his waist, and her first is raised over her head in triumph like Bender at the end of The Breakfast Club. Camera flashes are going off all around her, and she knows plenty are from Sansa snapping pictures on their mother’s DSLR, and that this moment will be on a frame on the mantle soon. She pulls her head out from beside Gendry’s to see his reaction, and there’s this look of pure awe across his face.

 

“You did it, Arya,” he says.

 

“We did it, Gendry,” Arya replies, correcting him. They’re so close, him still holding her up and her arms lazily around his shoulders, maybe only a few inches separating their faces. Her pulse is racing, going a mile a minute and her heart feels like it’s about to jump straight out of her chest, and she’s unsure if it’s from the adrenaline rush she’s got from making that lift, or something else. “I’m your number seven.”

 

Maybe it’s the excitement of the moment getting to her, or the way he’s looking at her like he’s seeing something wonderful for the first time, or maybe it’s just been long time coming, but Arya thinks, _the hell with it_ , moving both her hands to the sides of his face.

 

“Lucky me,” he starts to say, but he’s barely got the first word out of his mouth before she pulls him in, closing the inch or two gap and bringing her lips to his. He stills for a moment, surprised since she’s cut off his sentence, but he quickly returns the kiss, moving one arm up from her thighs to the back of her head, eager to match the emotions she was putting in. Gendry’s not sure if this is just celebratory, brought on by the adrenaline of her new national record and placement on the team for Worlds, or something more, but he’s going to take whatever she’s willing to give him at the moment, and ask questions later.

 

He hears people coming up behind them and pulls away, resting his forehead against hers. “I knew you could do it, Arya.”

 

“Thank you,” she says, then kisses him again before everyone rushes up.

 

“Go give your fan club a hug and then let’s get you a medal.” He finally sets her back down to the ground and lets the large group of family and friends engulf in her a group hug. He sees Margaery say something to her and watches as Sansa blushes and Arya laughs, a mischievous smile on her face, and he’s willing to bet money that Maggy just said something highly inappropriate about their _very_ public display of affection.

 

A few minutes later and she’s onstage, gold medal hanging around her neck as she stands atop the podium. She’s swarmed by news reporters when she steps off and comes to the side again, excitedly answering their questions but sneaking glances over to where Gendry is standing with the rest of their group. The announcer comes on the speaker system a few minutes later, alerting everyone to the start of the next session in ten minutes, and asking for everyone except athletes and coaches to leave the area.

 

She goes back to Gendry, standing by himself with her duffel bag repacked and slung over his shoulder, and he hands his SSC hoodie to her. Arya pulls it over her head and reaches inside the neck, grabbing her medal out and placing back on her chest.

 

“So, what do we do now?”

 

“Everyone else is headed back up to their rooms to give you some time to shower and change,” he explains as they walk out of the warm-up area and into the main convention center hallway. “I assume we’ll grab lunch and then our flight leaves at –”

 

She stops abruptly in the middle of the hallway, reaching out to grab his hand. “That’s not what I meant.”

 

He pauses for a second before he replies. “That’s up to you.” She looks up at him, smiling, and they start walking again. “But I’d like to take you on a real date when we get back to Winterfell.” He pulls their hands up and kisses the back of hers, reveling in how she blushes. “Something that doesn’t involve coaching or being at the gym.”

 

“I think I’d be okay with that.” He watches as she walks next to him, eyes straight forward and left hand in his. Her right hand keeps going up to grab her medal, closing around it, flipping it over and back again, maybe trying to remind herself that it’s actually real. “But first, I’d like a Frappuccino. And donuts… oh! And Chipotle.”

 

“Gotta get it in before training for Worlds starts, huh?” Gendry replies. They’re at the main elevators in the lobby now, waiting for the next available one. “You’re going to Worlds, Arya. _Worlds_.” The door opens and they let out a couple before going inside.

 

She leans against the wall of the elevator, tugging his hand to get his attention and get him to look at her before she speaks. “No, _we_ are going to Worlds. Both of us,” she tells him firmly. She goes up on her tippy-toes to kiss him again, and he’s there, meeting her halfway.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this little AU came into my head and I couldn't shake it. Arya here is slightly based on Mattie Rogers, a US olympic weightlifting badass, who you should look up if you don't know who she is. Really. The weights I mention for Arya are all feasible for a lifter in her weight class who is on track to make a national team. 
> 
> And just a little bit of real notes... she's competing in Olympic weightlifting, which only has two lifts, snatch (lol) and clean & jerk (C&J). You get three attempts at each, and your score is the combination of the highest of each lift. The title is the term for completing all six lifts. "PR" is your personal record, and most athletes track their training records as well as what they do in competition. 
> 
> Lifts mentioned:  
> Snatch: floor to overhead in one motion, using a wide grip (http://www.catalystathletics.com/exercise/58/Snatch/)  
> C&J: floor to shoulders (clean), then shoulders to overhead (jerk), with shoulder-width grip (http://www.catalystathletics.com/exercise/76/Clean-Jerk/)  
> Snatch pull: used to train the first pull of the lift (http://www.catalystathletics.com/exercise/97/Snatch-Pull/)  
> Snatch balance: develops the receiving position of the lift (bar overhead) (http://www.catalystathletics.com/exercise/80/Snatch-Balance/)
> 
> I think that's everything now, but just comment if something doesn't make sense.
> 
> Oh, and just in case anyone cares, there is absolutely zero Jaqen gettin' with Arry in this.


End file.
